RP:Biodome, It's Happening
Summary: Josleen hires Callum as storm mage and botanist for Larket's future arborium (BIODOME!!!)
A letter finds its way to Mr. Callum Rochester, botanist of some repute. The emblem of Larket's crown is stamped in the 'Return Address' section of the envelope, and the back of the letter is sealed with the waxen engraving of the Queen of Larket's signet ring. Her slanted, ruled penmanship suggests a formal education and formal approach to letter writing.
Dear Mr. Rochester,
It is with great anticipation that I write to you. In recent weeks I have settled on a new project for Larket City, a Royal Arborium whose flora design will rely on the creative genius of a botanist with unparalleled enthusiasm and energy. I am in the process of selecting that botanist and your name has surfaced as a likely candidate. If this project interests you, I would like to meet at Fort Freedom. Please select an appointment below in your response.
[Three time slots follow]
Eagerly awaiting your reply,
Josleen Jauzon Queen of Larket
Queen's Tearoom (aka office)
On the date and time Callum had selected, the mage was welcomed at the gate by the Queen's maitre d' and led to her 'office,' which would be called a parlor by most. The focal point was not a desk, but instead a chaise where the Queen sat, a coffee table for her things, and a loveseat across from her for visitors. Damask wallpaper walls, tall windows, colorful tapestries and bookshelves lined with tomes and flowers suggested a woman who was not embarrassed to spend her wealth on luxury, both gaudy and tasteful. A portrait hung on the right-side wall from the entrance, a portrait of King Macon and Queen Josleen standing regally side by side, hands joined, and trim-looking Gigi (Prince Pooch) between them at their feet, snout held high. The real Gigi (curled up in his gold-threaded dog bed in the parlor) looked less slim, a side effect of successfully begging the castle staff for too many sausages. Josleen lounged in her chaise in a dress whose raw materials alone could resell to feed a family of four for a week. But more striking than her dress was her secret smile that bespoke of a private happiness that was anyone's guess. When Callum entered the room, Gigi lept onto his feet first and crossed the distance to the mage, sniffing him wildly. Hello, hello, hi, welcome, hi, any sausages? "Mr. Rochester." Josleen smiled at him and bid him to sit in the loveseat across from her. After the bow/nod exchange that was customary and polite, she broke the ice with small talk. So glad he could come. Did he get in all right? Would he like tea? Coffee? Something stiffer? Where did he come in from? Where is he from originally? Where did he learn botany? During the conversation, Josleen let it slip that her father is -the- Kyl'oriel, long time Mage's Guild member, world-renowned naturalist, author of many books about fauna, flora, and mineral (including a book that argues that there are many uses of quartz in colon health). That tended to impress mages and naturalists alike, and in Josleen's biased opinion, being a fanboy of her father was a sign of a good education.
Cal was the picture of calm and collected--it helped though that he practiced speaking to his plants that morning. Yes, he talks to them. Don’t judge. It helps them grow. After the customary greeting, he’d answer all of her questions with a pleasant smile as he eased back into the loveseat. He was fine and glad to be here. Coffee would be splendid. He came from Kelay-Sage, where he lives in a modest house in the forest, originally from Cenril. Hopefully, she didn’t noticed the slight accent that was oh so similar to Lionel’s or the olive tint to his skin, for that would truly give away his true heritage as a Catalian. He’d continue on with the inquiries: “I learned about botany growing up. Did quite a lot of reading and it turns out I’m a natural with it. I’m a storm mage, as in I can manipulate water and air magic, so besides helpin’ out with ships and keepin’ them afloat, growin’ herbs and such seemed like the next best thing. There’s always a constant need for plants, whether it’s decorations, food, or potion and elixir makin’.” Oh god. Is this going alright? I’ve heard some things about this king and I don’t know if this is a good idea but oh my god imagine all the money I could make--this is what was going through his head at this point. Poor Callum. This is probably not a good idea, but you’ll more than likely be swimming in gold here pretty soon if she hires you. When her father is brought up, Cal lets out a soft gasp, “No. Really? I’ve read some of his work! To think his daughter sittin’ right here in front of me! Been thinkin’ about maybe joinin’ the guild, but work’s work, you know. Can’t ever seem to find the time. Been meanin’ to pick up some more of his books too when I’ve got the chance.” Yes, yes. Butter her up a bit. That’s a good boy.
The servants serve coffee for Callum, and tea for Josleen. She perks up at mention of Cenril, "Ah, really. I was a student at the Cenrili Academy of Music and Arts." She says this with the faux-modesty of people who in some alternate universe state that they've attended Julliard. During her time in Cenril, her ear learn the various Cenrili accents of which Callum has not even one. Weird, why would he lie about that? Maybe he isn't lying, and his accent is just weird. She doesn't make it a habit to assume deception (unless you're a witch, vampire, drow, feline, certain types of dragons, etc. etc. etc.) She doesn't quite yet match his accent to Lionel's. She perks up considerably when Callum mentions that he is a storm mage and signals towards a servant while Callum speaks so as to not interrupt her guest. Callum's fanboying over Kyl'oriel earns him brownie points, even if lately she and her father have been at odds. He's (very recently) been a straight up f****** a******, she thinks, but Macon seems to think that that drama will blow over without consequence, and he tends to be right. Besides, Kyl'oriel is still her father, still a genius, still famous and it's hard not to steal some of that sun for herself. "I have copies of all his books in the Royal Library, which you're free to borrow, though they may not leave the building. But, returning to what you said earlier about being a storm mage, that's most fortuitious, because..." She waves the servant over who lays out the arborium's blueprint on the coffeetable between the Queen and the Royal Botanist hopeful. The greenhouse and surrounding grouns are huge, easily the size of three manors. "I plan on annexing it to the botanical gardens here in Larket. Have you been?" She gestures to various quadrants of the arborium. "I was looking to hire some type of storm or hydromancer as well because the greenhouse will be broken into environmental climates: rainforest, desert, tundra, temperate forest. But if you believe that you could do both...? That would be marvelous. How skilled are you as a storm mage?"
Lie? Why would Cal lie? Never in his entire life has Callum Erikk Rochester ever lied. Preposterous. Balderdash. Codswallop. He’s just got, like, a weird accent from hanging around all those sea-faring folk, don’tcha know? He’s definitely not a witch, vampire, drow, feline, certain types of dragons, or etc. “I have not been, sadly. The gardens sounds as infinitely lovely as its owner.” Cal, of course, means Josleen and not Macon. Macon probably wouldn’t take too kindly to being called ‘lovely’ and Cal didn’t particularly want to get axed. “The rainforest, tundra and temperate is all absolutely doable as I tend to my own garden at home in the same sort of way depending on what herbs and flowers need what.. I would have to do a little bit of research with regards to the desert though, for I’ve never been to one unfortunately. But! That’s nothing that a little trip to Gualon and perhaps some studying in your father’s books can’t help.” The Catalian-that-totally-wasn’t-a-Catalian shrugged a bit at her last question, “I’d like to think that I’m pretty damned good, if Your Majesty will pardon my language. And, what I don’t know--like with the desert--I’m willing to learn.”
Josleens accepted the compliment with a smile, correctly assuming Callum meant her and not her husband, because while Macon possesses many admirable quality (most of which only she can see), no one would call him 'lovely,' not even her. She had always been capable of accepting compliments with grace, even before Queenhood made compliments flow like water from the faucet. Callum's two-in-one combo of botanist and storm mage seemed too good a deal to pass up. "And would you be willing to move to Larket, close to the grounds, for the initial construction and planning phase? I would like someone local, who can be here daily, at least at the start, as I plan on designing the flora alongside the Royal Botanist. I dabble in herbology and botany myself. Before becoming Thane of Frostmaw, I studied as a healer there under their master healer Eleenin. And of course, as my father's daughter, I have always delighted in nature. I already have a few plants in mind that I will have imported from abroad." Her eyes sparkle as she states with slow, deliberate reverence, "I'm looking to import a jade wisp fern." She's practically salivating at the idea. Magical fern that is native to another continent, sometimes home to magical creatures, has untold medicinal uses, but is super rare and hard to transport without killing? How like a Queen of her to want that. She looks at Callum expectantly, waiting for his eyes to gloss over at the thought of a jade wisp fern.
Alarm bells in Cal’s head start to go off immediately, but he keeps his full attention on the very self-absorbed female, that pleasant smile of his never fading. Move? But I just bought that damned house in Sage Forest! Who the hell am I going to sell it to now?! They’ll think something’s wrong with it. Maybe I can keep it? Turn it into a full greenhouse? Yeah. That’ll do. This sort of spontaneous thinking has kept Callum alive this long and so he decided to go along with it for the time being until a better idea came along. “Move to Larket? I can absolutely do that. I will likely take up residence at the inn for some time until I can procure a place of my own, but it’s at least in the city itself.” He scratched his chin idly, the fair bit of stubble that’s usually there out of pure laziness having been taken care of before his “date” with the Queen. “A jade wisp fern, eh? Well, you certainly do know your flora. You’d be the envy of all the healers in the land if you got your hands on that. They’d come crawling at your feet, begging to use some of it on their patients.” Hell, if he could somehow manage to get -his- hands on it, he could make a pretty pile of gold pieces too. But...that was an idea sealed off into that part of his brain with the rest of his secrets for now. “Your Majesty, that’s a splendid idea and I’m thinkin’ I might be able to help you if you’re keen on letting me take that job. In fact, it would be my pleasure to take on such a task. I could never turn down the opportunity of helpin’ things thrive--people, cities, or plants.” There’s that smile again. Isn’t he charming?
Josleen noted Callum's initial hesitation and stilled like a deer who heard a twig snap, but then Callum agreed to move to Larket and she relaxed into her easy smile. Good, good. Thanks to Queenhood, Josleen had become increasingly befuddled by 'no.' Everything should be 'yes.' "I can put you in touch with a realtor to help you find a place. So, yes, I'd like to hire you. How does 6,000 gold a month sound? Do you have a family? Would they be moving with you?" Gigi, bored with the meeting, approached Callum and began to intently sniff his crotch. "Gigi," Josleen reprimanded without any conviction. The dog ignored the Queen, continued sniffing. "Sorry about him, he's just impossible."
Cal’s eyes widened considerably at the monthly sum of gold Josleen offered for his services. It was impossible for him to do the math in his head right now to figure out how many times greater that was compared to his current self-given salary but oh god the temptation to ask for even more was there. Maybe some time down the line, he’d give asking for a raise a shot. Do monarchs -give- raises? “S-six thousand?” He almost choked on his coffee between between being told that rather large number and Gigi’s nose shooting right up into his junk. “Six thousand is--” He paused, pushing at the dog’s nose ever so slightly, making it seem like he was just patting the thing, “--is absolutely fine and no, I don’t have any family. When do you want me to start?” He shifted uncomfortably, scooting a little to the left, then to the right; that damned dog was so very keen on checking things out, though.
Josleen grins at his reaction to the salary. She was low-balling him a little, truth be told, because he wasn't affiliated with any mage guild or academy which behave like unions and extort royals. She may be rich, but you don't stay rich by throwing gold away. And besides, Muzo's research expenses are a huge drain on her considerable Queenly stipend (the sum of which can grow if Josleen only pets Macon the right way, but she is conscious not to abuse that power). Gigi interprets Callum's shoving as an invitation to play. Now things are turning up! Yes! The dog trots back to his bed, fetches his toy penguin, then brings it back to Callum and deposits it in his lap and waits for a rousing game of fetch to begin! "Gigi!" Josleen coos with the disciplinary gusto of wilted grass, "I'm sorry about that. Just ignore him. As for when you start, how about Monday? Is that enough time to get your things in order? The arborium isn't yet constructed so we'll meet in the royal gardens here on the castle grounds. Once the construction begins, you'll have an office on site."
Yep. Definitely should’ve asked for more money. Damn it. Cal squints a bit at the Queen and that grin of hers; you could almost hear the sound of gold coins being thrown onto a fire, melting away into nothingness instead of being shoved into Cal’s pockets. “Would there be room for improvement? That is to say, after you’ve seen my work and whatnot, would there be the possibility of raises?” The man’s definitely got priorities. He stood then, not wanting to waste anymore of Josleen’s time. Gigi’s toy dropped to the floor, which he nudged just a tiny bit so that it might satisfy the pooch. “And, Monday it is. I’ll have my things packed up and sent on their way to Larket tomorrow. Should there be anything further that you’d need of me until then, just send word to the Inn here and I’ll get it as soon as possible.”
Josleen nods at his posturing for a raise down the line. "Of course, once the arborium is open and your services prove indispensable, we can discuss a raise." She appreciates his business-like exit and willingness to start soon. Once he is gone, she skips away to Macon's office to gush about the good news. Gigi chews on his penguin.